Raw Elements: Water
by ThatSassyCaptain
Summary: More a less a sequel of Fire, the Enterprise is invited out to visit a promising new Federation member. The reception is friendly enough, and all reports from the planet seem positive. Only, Starfleet Intelligence isn't telling them everything- like the fact that they've got an agent on the inside.


**A/N: Hello yes this is unnecessary WIP number 3. At this point in the semester this is foolishness AND YET**

Yes, it was only a matter of time. Braekenwold paced back and forth on the deck. Soon, he realized, things would come to a breaking point. He could only stall inspections so long, and he could only keep his men so quiet. Sooner or later something would have to give. He could only hope it was this wretched rock and not anything that would cost him more time and money.

He didn't like pacing. Sometimes he'd feel the rig move and his feet would start going. Back and forth. It gave him balance. Braekenwold knew he was in control, and that when something shifted he had a way to stabilize things. He was the master of this station, and soon he'd be in charge of a whole lot more.

The little light on his desk panel was blinking. That would be Sterry with a problem. Nothing good came in after nightfall. He crossed to the back of the desk and took his seat. Braekenwold inhaled deeply, exhaled, and pressed the button.

"What is it, Sterry?"

There was crackling on the other end. Probably the Night Shift Manager wondering how Braekenwold had known. " _A tussle, sir. Galler and Runo got too rowdy after we let everybody know that ship was stopping by."_

"And?"

Sterry paused again. " _Runo lost his nerve and tried to back out. Galler panicked too and almost called us in. Don't worry, boss…"_ he quickly clarified, " _he didn't get nowhere near the radio. But I've got them down here in the storage closet and I was wondering what you'd want to do…"_

Braekenwold leaned back and kicked his feet up on the desk. They hadn't had an accident in some months. Another one wouldn't get the mayor looking into things. That, and they had Doctor Weller scheduled for this week anyway. Weller had some fun stuff planned, and Braekenwold figured she owed him a favor anyways.

"Send 'em up here. I'll figure the technical stuff out. Ask Kerby if we need any more jolly juice, and call Weller if we do."

The sound on the other end was muffled as Sterry went about relaying his instructions. Braekenwold could wait. He'd been in business too long to let last-minute setbacks affect his blood pressure.

" _Kerby says we're good. I know you said Weller wants to play around with the guest chemistry we've got, so we've been stockpiling."_ That was good to hear. Sterry always was pretty good with running the deck. " _And just a recommendation- I'd put the fall on Galler. He's been sober for a few months, but there was that accident with the crane a while back."_

Braekenwold smirked. Good deal. "Nice work, Sterry. Keep me in the loop if any of the others get cold feet."

Now all he had to do was pick a room and wait. Runo and Galler would be dead by morning.

Montgomery Scott was never bored. Lost in thought perhaps, without urgent orders maybe, but bored?

Engineers were too creative for that. Unfortunately, it was seldom Scotty getting 'creative' in Engineering. More times than he liked, he had to police the lads and their latest escapades outside of regulation. When the spirit and letter of the law didn't intersect, it was up to Scott to get things straightened out or cleaned up. Preferably, he'd have it done before the Captain- or worse Mister Spock- found the bowels of the ship off-kilter.

Today was different. So far, the mission had been smooth as butter. There hadn't been so much as a hiccup with the warp core, and _nothing_ out there in the black had tried to impede them in any way. Scotty wouldn't ordinarily consider himself a superstitious man, but like baseball players and sailors of old, he got an itch when everything was going just a little too swell.

There had to be ruckus. Not anything dangerous, mind- Scotty'd 'touch wood' were there any within reach- but some small disruption to keep the hands busy. He could swear there were half a dozen maxims on the dangers of idle hands, but it seemed even his brain was taking it easy.

That was something Scotty couldn't have. He knew better than most engineers in the fleet about the dangers of falling behind. He had to stay sharper than sharp to keep up with the unfathomable escapades the _Enterprise_ flew into. The crew in Engineering knew it well enough. And they were about to get a reminder.

Before he did anything drastic, Scotty would make a courtesy call upstairs. The Captain would want to know about any major changes being made. Scotty swiveled his chair around leisurely before stopping his spin and putting in a call to the Bridge.

 _"Bridge here, Uhura speaking._ "

Scotty smiled to himself. It was always a good day when he could catch Lieutenant Uhura on duty. "Uhura, it's Scott. Would you mind terribly if I had a quick word with the Captain?"

She stifled a giggle, but he heard. Ever the professional, that lass. _"I'll give him the heads up."_

Scotty waited another moment before the channel re-opened from the Captain's chair.

 _"Kirk here. Where's the fire now, Mister Scott?_ "

The Captain was in a good mood, but Scotty could sense the wariness in his voice. It seemed like he was waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop as well.

"No fire, sir, just some tune-ups to keep the hands busy. With your permission of course, sir."

Kirk paused on the other end of the line. " _What kind of tune-ups? We're not going over the transporters again. I don't care how much Doctor McCoy keeps pestering you."_

Scotty let out a bark of a laugh. "Aye, no, the Doctor hasn't been a bother. I've been meaning to take the warp core offline for a few hours- preferably when we got to a starbase- but since we skipped the rendezvous with the _Potemkin_ at Starbase 11…"

He could almost see Kirk nodding. " _You're right. We've been putting it off. This is a pretty safe sector, so I don't mind it as long as you keep the weapons and transporters online. We're nowhere near Klingon space, but we've run into them in odder places than Oleum IV. You've got the green light, Scotty."_

Perfect. "Thank you sir, I'll start after the diplomatic team beams down. That way, Doctor McCoy can use the transporter without worry."

 _"Without any_ additional _worry, you mean_."

"Aye sir." Scotty chuckled. "We'll get the preparations underway. Scott out."

The channel closed and Scotty stood up from his chair. He stretched, touched his toes, and closed out the technical journal he was reading on his terminal. There _really_ hadn't been anything to do, and now they had permission to do something productive.

They called her Randall, and she kept her head low. Something was wildly wrong with this setup, with the whole atmosphere on Pumpjack One. But, under Manager Sterry, it wouldn't do her any good to stick her nose into anyone else's business. She'd noticed he and a bunch of other hands would go off at night, and there was an unspoken agreement not to mention it. The last guy she'd seen out of his bunk _and_ out of the loop got washed off deck during a storm. She pretended to agree the lifeline snapped.

Galler and Runo had been in the loop. They were the first two she'd heard talking about it. Nobody in the loop left, and nobody outside ever seemed to go in. She'd heard Madigan had started outside, but it was hard to imagine the lanky crane-operator uninvolved with all things criminal.

Because that was what this was: criminal. She hadn't been sent here to check the lines, mind the pressure, or tie down the barrels in a storm. Operator Braekenwold was up to something, and she'd been sent to scope it out.

But keeping a low profile would be hard- _hard;_ almost impossible- after what Galler and Runo let slip. She acted like she didn't get it when Sterry locked them up 'for fighting'. It was easy to blink quickly and pretend anything outside drilling and maintenance was beyond her. The manager sure bought it. But she couldn't get the words out of her head.

 _"They're coming! It doesn't matter what the boss has got! They're invincible, Runo. Ain't nobody can stand up to her!"_

 _"Gall, keep it down. We can just… go back to the mainland. Take our cut and run. Come back when it's over. I've got leave coming, and I know you do too, so we can just-"_

 _"Forget it! Kirk eats ops like us for breakfast. If I give the Feds a tip, at the least they might let me off easy!"_

After that, everything she'd heard about Pumpjack One had been confirmed. She didn't know if it was a big or small job, Kirk had a _reputation_ for setting crooked dealings straight. The long arm of Starfleet had reached far enough for Runo and Galler. Now she had the sinking suspicion they wouldn't make it off the rig alive.

Maybe none of them would. 

**A/N: Ha ha... this isn't the sequel to Dog Days, but to be fair, this has been in my drafts for ages. That Dog Days sequel is still without a plot, but Thank You guest reviewer for the support. I haven't forgotten about it.**

 **Speaking of the Dog Days sequel, how does Post TMP feel? I really want to take a crack at the TWK era uniforms. Love me those turtlenecks.**


End file.
